


Photographic Memory

by impish_nature



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Amnesiac Stan, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, getting the comfort he needs, warnings: vague mentions of abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-04
Updated: 2016-05-04
Packaged: 2018-06-06 09:48:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6748837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impish_nature/pseuds/impish_nature
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hurt/Comfort: Stan is slowly recovering from his amnesia. But there are a lot of memories that would best be left alone...Sometimes you really need your whole family to remind you that things are better now. <br/>(Warnings for panic attacks/angry outbursts and very vague allusions to abuse.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Photographic Memory

**Author's Note:**

> Birthday present for the lovely @pinesinthewoods I know you said it was ok but I felt mean having got 2 out yesterday and not yours ;.; it just got too late so! Happy Birthday!

“Stan? Stan, are you up here?”

Ford gulped nervously as he looked around the top of the stairs, his fingers tapping on the bannister. His senses went on high alert when no one answered. It had been a stretch to get him away from Stan at points since Weirdmaggedon. It had taken the kids pointing out that he was making Stan nervous from hovering around him when he didn’t remember him yet to force him to take a step back.

It had hurt. A lot. But they’d had a point. He wasn’t acting himself. There was no way Stan was going to remember him if he acted so out of turn but it was just so _hard_. He was so scared that he’d turn around one day and Stan wouldn’t be there. Or he’d have a memory lapse and Ford wouldn’t be there to help him through it. All the worst case scenarios seemed to wrap around in his head, unlike the kids who somehow managed to stay optimistic.

They kept him afloat as much as they did Stan.

He knew how much they had done for him, knew he’d have to thank them one day even if they wouldn’t understand. Thank them for how when he was sure it was impossible, they defied all odds to bring Stan back to them, back to _him_. He finally got to see his brother remember him when he had been convinced it would never happen, all because of them. And day by day he saw his brother returning, becoming the man that he had missed growing up.

He hated that he was finding out about Stan as Stan himself remembered now, that they hadn’t sat down and talked things through before all of this, reconciled before everything went to hell.

But hindsight and wishful thinking were all well and good. This was reality and at least in reality, something up there was giving him and his twin a second chance. Ford took another look around the hallway, head tilting slightly as he listened out for a sound that didn’t come back to him. He sighed, shaking his head to the kids at the bottom of the stairs and went off for a more thorough investigation.

They had all hoped that Stan would be ready and waiting for them, not the other way around. As his memories of the summer returned in drips and drabs Dipper had come up with an idea. Stan remembered the Shack, had even seemed horrified at one point at them keeping it closed for even a day let alone the week that had passed since Weirdmaggedon while they had been repairing it. And so Dipper had questioned whether they should let Stan give a tour. Let the muscle memory run him through the motions and bring up more memories that needed dislodging. Stan had seemed elated at the chance to have something to do other than listen to incessant questions and old tales about people he was meant to know. He had laid his suit out ready, giving it an appraising look with a small smile on his face as he set out to face a new day and hopefully start to remember the faces in the crowd when he was in his element.

Ford had not been as convinced.

He understood that the routine might help, keep Stan occupied instead of fretting over his memories but it still itched at him that this was too soon. Too much, too fast and he’d almost started hovering again. But he knew Stan needed this so he’d taken the back seat again, let the younger twins’ compromise by letting him go on the tour with his brother in case anything happened instead of calling it off entirely.

So now, Mabel stood down at the bottom of the stairs, camera at the ready for her Grunkle’s big reopening day, all of them fully expecting him to come strutting down the steps in his repaired suit and fez, with a nonchalant look on his face-

And yet he was nowhere to be seen.

“Stan? I hope you’re up. Mabel’s going to scold you if you’re not ready for your big day-” Ford’s words caught in his throat as he opened Stan’s door with a small warning knock and found the room empty. He tried to breathe through the rising panic, letting everything normal in the room calm him. The bed had been slept in, his clothes and accessories for the day were nowhere to be seen, and everything that should be in its place was where it should be. “It’s alright, he’s just getting ready, that’s all. Nothing to worry about.”

Ford tore himself away from the room, going to the next logical place, his heart thudding a painful tune against his ribcage as his thoughts tried to run away with themselves.

What if he wasn’t there?

Where could he be?

Why would he have gone off somewhere without telling them?

Ford’s mind ground to a halt, leaving an unpleasant buzz as his feet did the same. A river of relief drenched him from head to toe as he found the bathroom’s open doorway.

He’d found him.

Stan was stood inside, staring unseeingly into the mirror, his bow tie and top buttons still undone. Ford took in the unfocused gaze that heralded a returning memory for just a second before his relief took over and he couldn’t stop the loud shaking breath that left him as he stumbled to his brother’s side.

“ _Stan_.”

Stan jumped at the sudden noise. He flinched away from him as he came towards him, arms raised in defence and pupils blown as they rounded on him instead of their steady gaze into the mirror. Ford paused, arm outstretched, suddenly cautious and uncertain. “Stan? You OK?”

“F-Ford?”

“Yeah buddy, it’s only me.” Ford slid forward again as Stan let his eyes go back to the mirror, taking it as a sign that he wasn’t being seen as a threat anymore. He snaked a hand around his shoulder, wincing apologetically at the eyes staring at him in the mirror as Stan flinched again at the unexpected contact. He let the hand trail up and down his arm, a soothing gesture, until Stan’s muscles relaxed their taut hold on his rigid form. “What happened?”

Silence met his words as Stan went back to gazing at his own reflection, eyes unbearably sad and his teeth worrying at his lip as if he was contemplating telling him. Ford gave him a little shake, wanting to do anything to bring his brother out of this stupor he seemed to keep being pulled back into. “Hey, _hey_ , you stay with me here, OK? I’m right here to keep you from getting overwhelmed by too many memories and it looks to me like you’ve remembered enough for the time being.”

He felt a small twinge of pride as Stan gave a shaky sigh of relief, as if scared that Ford would have expected him to follow the rabbit down the hole and drag out everything he could in one go. He’d admit, that in the first few days the twins and himself had been ecstatic at every small detail Stan remembered and tried to coax more out of him but it had soon become apparent that some memories should be left well alone for Stan to come to terms with at his own pace. Otherwise they could overwhelm him, make him relive things he had probably buried deep and tried to forget before this sorry mess even started. The memories had on more than one occasion left him shaky and spent for the rest of the day, and left them all with a sense of impending horror as he spun tales of exploits he would never have dreamed of telling them if he had been in control to do so. “And whatever it is, we’ll get through it, OK? The kids are downstairs, they let me come up on my own just in case so you don’t have to worry about them finding out things you wouldn’t want them to know. And- I’m right here alright? Whatever you need-”

“I remembered-”

Ford’s mouth shut with a snap, the babbling litany that had been escaping him cut off with Stan’s words. He waited patiently as Stan seemed to struggle with it, his face irritated and distraught all at once as if he wanted the shoulder to lean on but also didn’t know how to word any of what he had just seen. Ford’s hand squeezed his shoulder again. “I’m not here to judge you, Stan, whatever it is, we’ll get through the memory one step at a time.”

“ _I remembered Pa_.”

The words came out in a torrent as if something had hit him over the back of the head and Ford felt the shake that vibrated through him all at the same time. A torrent of ice slipped down Ford’s spine, his eyes widening at the concession as he stared at his own slack jawed face in the mirror.

For some reason, he’d been expecting Stan to talk about his 10 years on the streets, not this. His arms subconsciously tightened as another tremor went through his brother, the action dragging him back from his own thoughts before they could start to question exactly what Stan had remembered.

“ _God_ , did we really live through that for 17 years?”

A small noise of reassurance and sympathy left Ford at the words. With his chin resting on Stan’s shoulder as he held him tight, both their faces still staring at the mirror, he began to wonder how it must feel right at this moment. Wondered what it must be like to remember 17 years’ worth of their father’s overbearing presence all in one fell swoop. The cold indifference to any small achievements, the constant berating that it wasn’t good enough, that they could always do better no matter how much they tried. The uncontrollable rages at the slightest of mistakes, a tingle of phantom pain snaking up the backs of his legs all the way to his neck at the recollection. Understanding and a painful empathy swelled deep in his core as he tried to figure out how exactly to deal with this situation.

Well as much as he _could_ understand anyway. He realised with a sick lurch that added to their own similarly strained relationships with the man, Stan also had to deal with the recollection of being kicked out of his home, torn away from his family by the one man who should have been protecting them. Told to make a fortune or never return.

His heart thumped achingly in a distraught panic that tightened his hold on his twin, as he also grasped that as much as he could recall the vague memories and understand why Stan hated them, he wasn’t having to relive them in that moment like Stan was. Wasn’t learning for what must feel like the first time that his childhood hadn’t always been filled with sunshine and hunting the beach for treasures with his twin like he’d been imagining.

Hadn’t realised there was a reason other than the bullies that had prompted them wishing with all their might to sail away on a boat together.

“Is he-”

Ford jumped at the chance to answer a question as Stan spoke. Hoping that he could help the obvious turmoil his brother was subjecting himself to. But he couldn’t without an opening. “What?”

“God, I feel awful for asking.” Stan licked his lips, gulping as he looked away from Ford. “Is he still alive?”

“Oh.” Ford inwardly cursed as Stan seemed guilt-ridden at the question. “No, I don’t think so. You- you didn’t say anything when I came back through the portal anyway. You only told me about Shermie.”

“Is it bad that I’m relieved by that?”

Ford almost didn’t hear the question, wouldn’t have if it wasn’t for the fact that it was just the two of them up here, that the room was completely silent otherwise. He drew himself away, turning Stan towards him so that they could look at each other without the mirror. He bent his knees slightly, trying to get Stan to meet his now determined gaze as he seemed to be having a staring competition with the floor. “Stan? Stan, look at me. I promise you that even if he was alive, I wouldn’t let him hurt you again, you know that, right?”

“It’s not that.” Stan finally tore his eyes up to look at Ford, his gaze uncertain and yet somehow fierce all at once. “Well, partially it is. I don’t know what I’d do if he came in here now and started shouting the odds. Anyone else would get a left hook but him- I could never fight him.” His mouth hardened as Ford nodded sympathetically, his hands running calming trails along his arms again. “But mostly I was thinking about him and the kids. I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to the kids- if they found out just how bad he was. And I’d like to think if he tried anything on them then I’d tear him apart but I- the thought of him makes me feel like we’re 10 again when we had to be silent and still otherwise the punishment would be worse- What if I couldn’t protect them? What if-”

“ _Breathe_.” Ford snapped his fingers in front of Stan, letting the jolt ground him as the memories leapt up to overtake him once more. “Hey, stop that. You and I both know you wouldn’t let anything happen to those kids. That would override all of that doubt you’re feeling now. And you think I’d let him do anything to them either?” He raised an eyebrow, one hand going to the gun always at his side. He gave him a soft smirk, his voice light-hearted. “I’m not just that gangly little nerd anymore, remember?”

“C-could have fooled me.” Stan gave a light chuckle before his own mind dashed it from his face again, much to Ford’s distress. “Sixer…I know you’re trying to be nice but you don’t have to lie to me. I hope I’d never let anything happen to the kids but look at last week? I remember that, you remember that. I almost- all because of me they almost got hurt, or worse. I don’t want to let them down again. If they get hurt on my watch how does that make me any better than-”

“Don’t you dare even think about finishing that question.” Ford’s eyes narrowed, giving his brother another shake, this time filled with a grim determination. “You are twice the man Pa ever was. And I hope he’s rolling in his grave for what we’ve achieved and how he treated us. Don’t ever compare yourself to _him_.” The words came out as venom that he hadn’t even known he’d possessed. It was almost as if Stan remembering, comparing himself to their father had flicked a switch in him, reminded him that what they had been through was not normal and he would not wish it on anyone else.

“Are you sure about that?”

The anger that had been burning in his chest died out to a cold hollow perplexity as Stan spoke again, catching him off-guard. “Sorry?” Stan didn’t respond, the question not really for him as his head turning back to the side, back to the mirror as if it held all the answers. A warning bell sounded in Ford’s head, the dots connecting to form an awful picture that he was having trouble ignoring in favour of his own peace of mind. “Stan…what brought on these memories?”

“I came in here to get ready.” Stan’s voice was monotone, distant as if he was listing off facts, ones that he didn’t want to believe himself. “I was getting ready when I glanced up at the mirror…”

“Only it wasn’t me I saw in it.”

Ford closed his eyes as a sharp stab of pain went through him at the words. He let the air out of his lungs in a shaky breath, wondering how to deal with his brother seeing their father in himself and unlocking all the old memories that Ford almost wished he’d never remembered again. A selfish little hope that ignorance would be bliss for his brother. “Look Stan, I’m not saying that we don’t resemble him. Hell, I’ve seen him too sometimes, when I’ve been too tired to think straight or if my glasses catch the light at the wrong angle. But that doesn’t mean anything. Just because we got some of his genes doesn’t mean we turned out like him.”

“But I don’t know that!” Stan exploded, dragging himself out of Ford’s grip, ignoring the small alarmed noise his brother gave at the sudden change. His hands went to his hair, tightening into fists hard enough to hurt as he took a few steps away. His back hit the wall with a soft thud and he slid down slowly to sit on the toilet seat. He curled in on himself, tried to make himself as small as possible as the invasive thoughts overtook him. “I don’t _remember_ , Ford. I don’t know what I’ve done, how I’ve acted. What if I became like him? What if I hurt people? What if I hurt _them_? I can only remember bits and pieces from this summer and almost nothing of how I interacted with people other than customers in between you getting stuck in the portal and now. The portal, the FBI, the demon trying to take over, that’s what this summer is to me. I don’t remember these moments the kids keep trying to remind me of where everything was good and normal. Are they all lies? Are they trying to make me out to be a better person than I was? Am I not remembering anything because none of it happened like that and I was actually a terrible caretaker? Did I turn out like him? Or did I turn out exactly like he said I would? A lying, no good cheat who couldn’t do anything right-”

“I know you didn’t.”

“How? How can you know! You weren’t here!” Stan knew he was yelling but he couldn’t bring himself to care, his emotions were running high and rampant in contrast to his brother calmly staring down at him as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Because you’re _that_ scared that it happened, it can’t have done. Listen to yourself, Stan. _This is you_.” Ford squatted down in front of his brother, rested a hand on his knee as he felt Stan freeze beneath him, the sudden rage draining out of him to a tired and hopeful surprise. “Whether or not you remember, whether or not you ever get everything back, _you_ have not changed. Can’t you see that? You’re so protective of those kids, do you think that happens overnight? _You_ would never hurt them. You know that. Deep down. So if this you without all your memories can be that adamant, if you were that terrified for their well-being when Bill had us all hostage, why do you think there could ever be another you that wouldn’t feel the same?” He felt Stan sag, his hand coming out to Ford’s shoulder as he let his words stitch him back together, let him pull him back before he fell apart at the seams. “ _I know_ you would never hurt those kids. _You_ know you would never hurt those kids. And just from that, it’s so very very clear to me that my words still stand true- you are twice the man our father could ever have hoped to be.” He took hold of Stan’s chin, making sure his now exhausted brother was still paying attention to him as he grinned.

“And as to that last point. You ever heard of a lying, no good cheat, who couldn’t do anything right, saving the world? Cause I haven’t. Pretty sure that’s hero material.”

“Heh, when did you become such a sap, Poindexter?”

“When did you become insecure, Knucklehead?”

Stan snorted, standing up on wobbly legs. “Always was, it was just easy to hide it.”

Ford blinked, wondering if Stan even realised what he just said but thought better than to push it. They’d both had enough of the trip down memory lane for one day. He put a hand on Stan’s elbow as his legs shook. “How about we go tell the twins that today’s tour is off? You’re dead on your feet and it’s not even 10am.”

“I don’t want to let everyone down.”

Ford tried not to roll his eyes or let the irritation show through at the small hesitant remark. “Stan, everyone is much more concerned with your well-being than the Shack being ready for business again. No one’s going to be upset if you take another day to recharge.” He paused, his smile widening as his thoughts became brighter. “Back to the argument on you comparing yourself to Pa. You think those twins, or heck the entire town would be excited to see how you were doing if you were just like him?”

“Well, I _did_ save the world.” Stan smirked back at him, letting himself drape an arm around Ford to support him better.

Ford frowned, slowly navigating them out of the room. “It’s not just that, Stan.” He sighed, shaking his head.

“Come on. What you need today is family. And to see exactly what a real family is like.”

 

* * *

 

The two slowly made their way down the stairs, neither of them noticing that the twins weren’t still waiting for them at the bottom.

It took them shuffling awkwardly into the living room to find them.

Or what remained of the living room before they got their hands on it. There were blankets and pillows _everywhere._ Ford hadn’t even known they _had_ that many pillows. What looked like the cooler from the porch had also been dragged in and was piled high with snacks and goodies from what he could see of its open top. But the main event was some kind of construction still being formed in the centre of the room by the two small twins who had yet to notice their arrival.

“Where’s my armchair? And why are your mattresses down here?”

The pair jumped, glancing round once before going back to work as if nothing had happened. Mabel frowned, an annoyed huff of air escaping her. “Aww, nuts, we were hoping to be done by the time you got down here!”

“Oh, and your armchair is in the kitchen and the reason for that- and our mattresses being down here are because we couldn’t fit all four of us on it so…”

“OK…How are they down here?” Ford added, Stan now busying his mouth in a goldfish impersonation that he was trying his best not to chuckle at.

“Soos helped us move them.” The words were said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Ford hazarded a guess that that was true. Soos would do anything for Stan.

“And Wendy is calling around and letting everyone know that the Shack isn’t opening today. So you don’t have to worry about that either.”

“But-”

The younger twins halted in their creation, both turning to their Grunkle Stan who looked so utterly disconcerted by this entire turn of events. “Grunkle Stan? Did we do something wrong?” Dipper’s voice came out in a small quiver, a nervous lilt that they’d misread the signals and done all this for nothing.

“No, your Grunkle’s being the silly one.” Ford launched at the question quickly, noting Stan’s heartbroken expression that Dipper seemed almost scared of his reaction when that wasn’t the case at all. It was so easy to misread a situation when you were already presuming the worst. “He thought he’d be letting everyone down if we came down and asked to postpone the opening. But see? They already did it for you.” He turned slightly to his brother, nudging him before he could overthink everything.

“Grunkle Stan!” Mabel threw her hands up in an indignant nature. “You? Let anyone down? That’s like the most impossible thing that could ever happen in the world!”

“And that’s taking into account that you live in Gravity Falls, where impossible things happen on a regular basis.” Dipper added, arms crossed and head held high.

“Yeah! Exactly! And that notion is _still_ too impossible to happen even here of all places. So you bite your tongue, mister.” Mabel wagged a finger at him, her other hand at her hip as she gave him the most final look she could muster.

There was silence as the four of them stood for a moment awkwardly before the younger twins shared a glance and went back to work. Dipper talked over his shoulder as they continued. “Anyway, you’ve got nothing to worry about. We heard shouting upstairs and thought that was the signal to figure out how to let everyone know that today wasn’t happening. But then Soos turned up and everything fell into place without too much planning.” He went quiet for a second, his eyes glued to the pillows they were piling deep against the wall, the two mattresses making up the base that they had hoped was high enough for their two Grunkles. “Did another memory come back?”

“Yeah.” Stan sighed as Ford dragged them both forward, still feeling completely out of his depth from 17 years’ worth of memories and bad blood filtering through his head in less than 10 minutes. “Not a good set either, kid.”

“Oh…do you wanna talk about it?”

“Nah, Ford sorted that all out.”

Ford coughed, dragging all of their attention over to him. “Actually, I sorted out _most_ of it.” His eyes sparkled in a mischievous way that set Stan’s teeth on edge.

It was a look that would suit his face better, an odd thought considering they were twins.

“Ford? What are you-”

Ford grinned as he spoke over Stan, his suspicious gaze burning a hole into the side of his face. He knew how far he could push it, knew not to give too much away but also get the right response from their niblings. “This Knucklehead didn’t only think he’d let everyone down today. What he hasn’t been telling us is that he’s scared he’s not as good a person as we’ve been making him out to be because he can’t remember it himself. Doesn’t think he deserves all the attention.”

“ _Ford_ -”

“Or maybe he’s under some misguided thought process that we’re all doing this _just_ because he saved the world.” Ford spoke over him, his words tinged with a disappointment and hurt that Stan found hard to ignore even as his anger bubbled up hot and sizzling at his twin for getting far too close to the real crux of the matter for his liking as he spoke to the kids.

At least he hadn’t brought up their father but still, the hints were there and he was not impressed.

“ _Grunkle Stan_.”

Stan paused in what had been close to an angry retort as two affronted voices broke through his thoughts and stuck the words to his tongue. He turned to the two small twins, feeling Ford’s body shake with laughter next to him.

It was Mabel that joined them first, arms tight around his legs as she looked up at them.

“Memories or no memories, you’ll always be our Grunkle Stan.” Mabel’s voice was muffled against his trousers. “It doesn’t matter if you remember everything, not really, ‘cause you’re still him. You’re still you.” She smiled brightly, her little arms stretched as wide as she could get them around his knees. “And I’m still your Pumpkin.”

Dipper joined them next, though his actions weren’t as obvious as Mabel’s. He grabbed Stan’s hand, tugging him over to the pillow fort they had created. “Grunkle Stan. You’re not just the town’s hero, you’re our hero. And you were our hero long before Weirdmaggedon.”

Mabel screamed, drawing away from them all to run off down the corridor. “The hero sash! We need the hero sash, stat!”

“Right.” Dipper shook his head, tugging at Stan’s sleeve again. “What I meant was. It doesn’t matter if you think you weren’t good enough or something else equally stupid. We know you were and we’re going to keep telling you that until you remember or believe it yourself.”

He waited until Stan was sitting, propped up and comfortable before snuggling up against him, all thoughts of not jumping into the hug, like his sister had, forgotten as he buried his head into Stan’s side. He coughed, trying not to let any emotion through as he pulled himself away slightly. “So, anyway, enough of all that- feeling junk and stuff. We’ve got all those old tapes of your shows out and the coolers full of Pitt Cola and snacks. What should we watch first?”

“Aww, you started the cuddle pile without me!”

“What? No I didn’t-”

“Anyway, I found it!” Mabel grinned brightly, ignoring her brother’s spluttering and squawking as she dusted off the sash and put it around Stan’s chest before jumping up into his lap. She snuggled up into him, pulling one of the many blankets over in the same motion. She choose not to say a word as Dipper dipped off the makeshift fort to drag the cooler within reaching distance and slid a tape in before regluing himself to Stan’s side, far too pleased that he was happy to show his emotions in that moment to ruin it by commenting. She looked up instead at the sash, fussing with it where it sat. “It got a bit mangled when the Shack became the Shackbot by the looks of it, some of the threads have come loose and it could use a good wash at the very least.”

Stan’s hands folded over hers, bringing her eyes up to his own watery ones. “It’s perfect, pumpkin.”

Ford smiled as he stared at the three of them in their small bubble of security the niblings had made to right the world again, not knowing just how big the gesture really was. He disappeared from their sight for a moment, checked the doors were locked and the sign flipped round to ‘closed’ before scribbling up another quick one for any uninformed visitor to not knock today and sticking that under the usual sign.

When he was satisfied they wouldn’t be disturbed he slipped back into the living room where the old movie had been started without him, the three already a small sleepy pile that had somehow accumulated more pillows since the last time he’d been in there.

He gave Dipper’s hand a small tug, asking him to move without disturbing the movie and sat down next to Stan, attaching himself to the side Dipper had previously occupied before opening his arms for the boy to sit on his lap.

The four ended up in a small tangle of limbs, Ford’s arms around Stan and Dipper, with Stan somehow encasing both Dipper and Mabel in his.

“You need any more evidence?”

Stan shook his head, his smile full of awe and bright as the sun. He glanced down before answering, glad that the small twins were too enthralled by the TV to hear them. “No…no, I think I get it now.”

“Good. Because I think today is going to be full of little reminders of that fact.”

They stayed like that for hours, a calming soothing balm to any terrified thoughts that rattled around Stan’s head. Whenever he saw his father in his reflection as the TV went black, or the intrusive thoughts escaped him, a small body would tighten its fingers around his, or press back into his chest, a warm and solid comfort that he never had as a child from his father.

Ford hummed contently beside him, his head dropping on to his shoulder as they got warmer and comfier and went undisturbed by the outside world.

Stan smiled to himself, his eyes drooping as he finally admitted defeat to the tiredness the memories had brought on, let himself utterly relax in the warm familiar embrace that surrounded him.

The world might be locked outside their little bubble of security.

But to him, the whole world was held tight within his arms.

**Author's Note:**

> AN: I hope this was ok! I know you asked for a trigger and the rest of the Pines hugging him into submission/all calming him down but I couldn't figure out how to get it to work so hugs came a little bit after Ford and him chatted. 
> 
> This almost became a nightmare fic - so I might have to write that too. In which Stan remembers the portal incident in the middle of the night and freaks out because he can't find Ford.


End file.
